


Asylum

by COBALT (nacaratskies)



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Dissociation, Gen, LGBTQ Themes, Medical Trauma, Psychological Trauma, Recovery, Surreal, Trans Female Character, Transphobia, conversion therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:08:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25996522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nacaratskies/pseuds/COBALT
Summary: Soren has a reoccurring nightmare. They are sitting in a chair in a white room. The Enterprise's counsellor is there. Are you having thoughts about gender? she asks. Soren cries. The counsellor cries too.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 12





	Asylum

**Author's Note:**

> TWs: everything in the tags + minor implication of self-harm, anxiety attacks, + therapy/medical related trauma
> 
> I wrote this out of pure SPITE. Give your lgbt characters happy endings you cowards.

Soren sleeps deeply and well and rises early, slipping easily into the chill air. They remove their sleepwear and dress quickly, wash their forehead, hum a song as they walk to work. The humidity presses against their skin. The sun rises to the left, illuminating the pale sky. It is a beautiful morning.

* * *

The side effects of the psychotectic treatment are not debilitating, but they are noteworthy. Soren's employer has been informed of this. There is no shame in this, the administrators said, but Soren doesn't want the other workers to know, so they don't talk about it. They usually just make up an excuse for why they are so blank or why they have to leave.

* * *

Vira moves forward, tries to kiss Soren. Soren doesn't move, doesn't blink, as their lips meet, until the other leans back, noting the lack of reaction.

Is there something wrong? they ask.

No, Soren shakes their head. There is nothing wrong. They use a stock excuse, apologize, and leave. When they get out of earshot their breathing becomes ragged. The little voice has its claws in them. Wrong, it says. Sinful. Soren agrees.

They must discuss this with a medical professional. These side effects are intrusive. The start of the proper mating ritual is not supposed to be considered sinful to the treatment, but conditioning has been known to spill over.

* * *

Soren does not sleep well. They have a reoccurring nightmare. They are sitting in a chair in a white room. Their counsellor is there. Are you having thoughts about gender? they ask. Soren stares at their markings and doesn't answer, but they keep asking.

Soren rises into the chill air and cannot strip off their nightclothes. They call in sick for work.

* * *

The sun rises on the left when Soren walks to work. They haven't been off world since before, but that's acceptable. They are undergoing treatment, after all. Maybe in a few years, when all is cured, they will be able to fly again. As it is they must focus on medical issues. You are still very much ill, says the doctor, and gives Soren medication to help them sleep.

Soren sleeps deeply.

* * *

Clothing is not red. Clothing is green, brown, orange, but rarely red, and never red for Soren. It is not a concern, but it is a side effect. It does not matter.

There is a poem that Soren likes to read in the evenings about a machine that goes around and around, always moving. Every gear is where it is meant to be. You are where you are meant to be, says the little voice. I am where I am meant to be, thinks Soren.

* * *

Soren does not sleep well. Soren has a reoccurring nightmare. They are sitting in a chair in a white room. The Enterprise's counsellor is there. Are you having thoughts about gender? she asks. Soren cries. The counsellor cries too.

* * *

The white room where Soren is given treatment is neutral. Soren has no ill will towards this room. Soren feels grateful. Soren wanted this, asked for this. Soren was sick and wants to get better.

Soren's hands shake. Soren can't breathe.

* * *

Are you having thoughts about gender? their counsellor asks.

Soren bursts into tears.

Soren is grounded for another year.

* * *

Soren sleeps deeply and well and rises early, slipping easily into the chill air.

* * *

Soren sleeps deeply and well and rises early, slipping easily into the chill air.

* * *

Soren sleeps deeply and well and rises early, slipping easily into the chill air.

* * *

Soren is afraid of mirrors. Soren removes the mirror from their room. Soren changes from nightclothes to day clothes, from day clothes to night clothes, without seeing themself. This is acceptable. This is the treatment. This is the cure.

* * *

Soren sleeps deeply and well and rises early, slipping easily into the chill air. This is acceptable.

* * *

Soren sleeps deeply and well and rises early, slipping easily into the chill air. This is the treatment.

* * *

Soren sleeps deeply and well and rises early, slipping easily into the chill air. This is the cure.

* * *

Foreign ambassadors arrive on the planet. Soren's counsellor approves their attendance as the top pilot of the incident with the Enterprise.

The Vulcan does not shake Soren's hand. She holds up a hand, fingers split in the middle. She congratulates Soren on their efforts. Her hair is long. Her voice is high and reedlike. She is so, so beautiful.

Soren excuses themself and throws up behind the bushes.

* * *

There is something wrong with me, Soren says.

Of course there is something wrong with you, says the counsellor. You are ill.

Soren does not know how to explain this shaking, this illness, this stress. It is not meant to be like this. It is not. There is something wrong. They don’t want to be different. They want to be cured.

* * *

Soren lies flat on their bed, naked, nightclothes scattered around them. They look down at their chest. They feel ill.

* * *

Soren sleeps deeply and well and rises early, slipping easily into the chill air. This is the cure.

* * *

It is a beautiful morning.

* * *

Soren sleeps deeply and well and rises early, slipping easily into the chill air. This is the cure.

* * *

Soren uses a flight simulator so they don't get rusty.

* * *

Soren is in Hell.

Soren is in Hell.

Soren is in Hell.

Soren is in Hell.

Soren is in Hell.

* * *

How did you get those cuts? the counsellor asks.

I have a pet, says Soren.

That's good, smiles the counsellor. It means your personality is returning. This is a common issue for people like you. Don't worry, it will come back fully after a while.

Soren nods.

* * *

There is something wrong. There is something very, very wrong.

* * *

Federation ships come and go to study the patch of space where Soren spent a few minutes. Soren doesn't get to see or talk to them. Soren is reassigned.

* * *

"You're Soren, right?" asks the ensign. The ensign is wearing red. Soren is wearing brown. Soren does not answer.

"You're that girl who discovered the null space with William Riker." Their—his—face splits into a grin. "It's an honour to meet you. They said they reassigned you."

"They did," Soren says.

"It's a shame what happened."

"It is." 

"You know, I have a sister who's like you."

"I don't understand. You are a human. Our situations are different."

"If you say so."

* * *

The ensign belongs to the Federation Starship Dillon.

The Federation Starship Dillon leaves the planet in fourteen days.

* * *

Soren can't breathe. Soren's hands shake. Soren looks in the mirror and feels sick.

* * *

Sinful, says the voice. Sick, says the voice. You don't hate the white room, says the voice.

Soren hates the white room. They hate, hate, _hate_ the white room.

* * *

The Federation Starship Dillon leaves in twelve days.

* * *

Soren sleeps deeply and well and rises early, slipping easily into the chill air. They remove their sleepwear and dress quickly, wash their forehead, hum a song as they walk to work. The humidity presses against their skin. The sun rises to the left, illuminating the pale sky. It is a beautiful morning.

* * *

Soren lies flat on their bed, nightclothes scattered around them. It is dark. It is late. They look down at their chest. They feel ill. They feel helpless. They feel furious.

* * *

Soren lies to their counsellor. Soren breaks down crying as the voice bites into their mind. There is something wrong. There is something so, so wrong.

* * *

Soren does not sleep well. Soren has a reoccurring dream. It is a good dream, but they can never quite remember it when they wake up.

* * *

The Federation Starship Dillon leaves in eight days.

* * *

Soren sleeps deeply and well and rises early, slipping easily into the chill air.

* * *

Soren sleeps deeply and well and rises early, slipping easily into the chill air.

* * *

Soren sleeps terribly. Soren wakes up sweating. Soren is angry. Soren is angry!

* * *

The Federation Starship Dillon leaves in five days.

* * *

Permission is granted to interact with the Dillon's crew. Soren wears a red undershirt to work. There are pretty women aboard. The pace is frantic. The people speak strangely. Soren's heart races. Someone calls them he. Someone calls them it. Someone calls them she. Humans are so strange. Humans are so handsome. Soren feels ill.

* * *

Soren sleeps terribly. Soren wakes up sweating. Soren paces around their room. Soren digs out the mirror, takes off their sleepwear and they stare at themself for a long time.

* * *

The Federation Starship Dillon leaves in three days.

* * *

Soren spends time on the bridge. The ensign talks to them. They do not talk back but the ensign keeps talking. They are grateful.

* * *

Soren does not sleep well. Soren has a reoccurring dream. It is a good dream.

* * *

The Federation Starship Dillon leaves in one day.

* * *

Soren sleeps deeply and well and rises early, slipping easily into the chill air. They remove their sleepwear and dress deliberately slowly, wash their forehead, hum a song as they walk to the Dillon's landing pad. The humidity presses against their skin. The sun rises to the left, illuminating the pale sky. It is a beautiful morning.

* * *

The Federation Starship Dillon leaves today.

* * *

Soren talks to the ensign. Soren starts crying even though they don’t know why. The ensign understands.

* * *

Soren is in the dark of a maintenance closet on deck five. Soren is trembling. Soren cannot breathe. This was a mistake. This was a mistake. This was a mistake.

* * *

Soren is missing their appointment. The counsellor is waiting in the white room. Soren has to go back. They want to go back. They can't go back. They're at warp two already and accelerating. It’s been so long since Soren was on a spaceship.

* * *

The hallways are dizzying, long, carpeted things, decorated like how humans decorate. The ensign leads them down the hallway to the bridge.

"Go on," he says. He squeezes Soren's arm. There is static in Soren's head but they appreciate it.

* * *

The captain’s lips are bright red and her eyes are green as she stares coldly at Soren and asks them what they are doing on her ship. If they know how inconvenient it will be to return them. 

“I’d like to request asylum,” Soren chokes out.

“Asylum from what?” the captain asks.

Soren explains the situation and watches the captain's eyes grow wide.

* * *

There is yelling on the bridge. The captain is angry, her beautiful long hair draping across her shoulders. They’re yelling about the inalienable rights of sentient species under the jurisdiction of the Federation as listed in Article 1 of the Convention against—

“Let’s get out of here,” says the ensign, tugging at Soren’s arm.

They leave. A lieutenant lends Soren her face colours. Makeup, she calls it. Soren gets their face painted. Soren looks pretty too.

* * *

The world sometimes spins, but Soren feels a little realer now. Today, the ensign, whose name is Laurence, is taking them around the engineering section and introducing them to all his friends.

"This is my friend," he says. "Her name is Soren." Soren nearly hisses as the little voice bites into them with a vengeance at the pronoun.

"Nice to meet you, Soren," says a—a woman? A woman. "My name is Ahti."

"Ahti," Soren repeats, and shakes her hand.

"It's lovely to meet you, Soren," she says.

"Likewise."

* * *

"The medical bay is underfunded," complains the male doctor running it. His name is Duong. He is handsome. "I can't fully diagnose you right now, and I definitely can't cure you, but I can assure you those bastards put something in your head, alright." He pats Soren on the back. "Just hang in there, okay? We're heading to the nearest starbase. They'll have facilities there. We're lucky enough to have a ship's counsellor. I suggest you go see her if things get too tough in that head of yours." He checks his notes. "We, uh... don't have many medical notes about your race, but we'll figure something out with regards to transition, okay?"

"Transition?"

"Yeah, well, Federation law classifies it as necessary healthcare." He frowns. "Isn't it something you'd like to pursue?"

“No, it’s just, um…” Soren’s head hurts. They feel sick, dirty. “Can I have a few days to think about it?”

* * *

They arrive at the starbase without incident. The J'naii send an ambassador with a slew of lawyers and guards to meet them. The Federation sends bodyguards and legal representation for Soren. Laurence takes Soren to see a neurosurgeon.

* * *

They are sent to a medical planet for surgery. Laurence promises to write them.

* * *

The surgery is relatively painless. Soren knew that the Federation had healthcare more advanced than the J'naii but she wasn't expecting results like this. She. She, she, she.

Soren starts to cry.

* * *

There are a lot of textiles for sale, some of J'naii make. Soren picks a human dress. Her hair is starting to get a little longer. If she dresses nicely, she usually gets recognized as female immediately. For such a small thing, it makes her inordinately happy.

* * *

Soren does some research into human history. On their home planet, they used to associate different colours with females and males. This practice is largely outdated.

Soren's bedsheets, clothing, walls, and couch are all shades of pink. She has never been happier. 

There is a lot of paperwork to file for Federation citizenship, but once she does, she can do what she wants with Federation common resources. The first thing she does is materialize some pea soup. She eats it and thinks about the future.

There are several Federation colonies that would be happy to have her whenever she’s completed her recovery.

* * *

Soren misses her home.

* * *

Soren sleeps deeply and well and rises early, slipping easily into the chill air. She removes her sleepwear and puts on her favourite red dress, washes her forehead, puts on her makeup, hums a song as she walks to work. The humidity presses against her skin. The sun rises to the right, illuminating the pale sky.

It is a beautiful morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Anyway stan Soren Thenextgeneration for clear skin and good grades. 
> 
> Comments are much appreciated :)


End file.
